Starlight
by ilovecastiel18
Summary: Companion fic to "Lighthouse." It's a week after the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, and Aziraphale is finally working through the issues he has with Heaven and everything that happened during the last few years. Crowley finds him and helps him through it. Aziraphale/Crowley, established relationship. Hurt/Comfort, angst, fluff, a bit of romance. One-Shot.


**Disclaimer: **Good Omens, along with its characters, locations, etc. are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet. If I owned the rights to it, I wouldn't still be desperate to meet the man that I absolutely ADORE: David Tennant.

**Summary: **Companion fic to "Lighthouse." It's a week after the Apocalypse-that-wasn't, and Aziraphale is finally working through the issues he has with Heaven and everything that happened during the last few years. Crowley finds him and helps him through it. Aziraphale/Crowley, established relationship. Hurt/Comfort, angst, fluff, a bit of romance. One-Shot.

**A/N: **It's not necessary to read "Lighthouse" before this fic, but I recommend it, just because it's a good story and it shows how the two of them got together. Though, to be fair, this is my sixth Good Omens fic and they get together in all of them. Please leave a review if you like it!

….

Starlight

….

It had been a week since the Apocalypse-that-didn't, and Aziraphale was – for the lack of a better word – in Hell.

Crowley had gone off to cause some mischief a few hours ago, leaving the angel with his thoughts. As it turns out, that wasn't a good thing.

Aziraphale found himself reminiscing about the years leading up to the Apocalypse, especially focusing on the few days before that had been torture for him and Crowley.

Crowley.

Aziraphale had found it hard to contain his love for the demon for centuries, and now that they were together, he no longer had the self-control to stop himself.

He would constantly give the demon a soft smile or a light touch, reassuring both of them that yes, they were alive, and yes, they were together. Finally.

They almost hadn't had the chance.

Aziraphale felt his heart clench at the thought that he would never see Crowley again. He remembered the feeling vividly – he could visualize when Crowley had asked him to run away to Alpha Centauri with him, and turning the demon down. He remembered muttering, "I forgive you" and watching his best friend scramble away, knowing that he would never see him again.

And then he did.

They had stopped the end of the world together.

Aziraphale had been having a hard time thinking about the Apocalypse without breaking down, so he had so far simply refused to think about it.

It wasn't that he didn't want Crowley to see him breaking down – the demon had seen his emotional side before, and he had been there for Crowley when he had broken down on the bus ride home from Tadfield – but he just didn't want to think about it.

He knew that once he started thinking about the events of the last few weeks, he wouldn't be able to stop, and he didn't feel like weeping about the past. It had happened. It was over, finished.

So why did he still feel it tearing at his insides, making his throat raw and his eyes swim with tears?

Suddenly unable to direct his thoughts anywhere else, like when one tried not to think about a song stuck in their head, Aziraphale found himself thinking about the events that had almost started Armageddon, and how he should have been able to stop it from getting to where it had been.

Heaven should have stopped it.

Aziraphale still found it hard to believe that Heaven had wanted the war. He knew that, generally speaking, Heaven and Hell were supposed to go to war, supposed to fight to find out who was best, who would win.

But how could the other angels – beings that were supposed to love unconditionally – want the end of the universe? They had _wanted _to wipe out humanity.

Aziraphale wasn't an idiot. He knew he was different from the angels. He cared more, he loved more, and he was much more passionate. He knew that most angels cared of nothing more than their angelic duties, and that they wouldn't see the end of the world as a tragedy.

But to actively seek it out?

Aziraphale found himself gasping for air that he didn't need as his emotions overcame him. He felt deeply betrayed by Heaven. And that hurt. He felt his eyes pooling with tears, his hands starting to shake.

And to top it all off – he had almost lost Crowley.

Aziraphale had blatantly refused to think about almost losing Crowley for the last week. If his thoughts suddenly wandered to Crowley driving a burning car, or facing off against the Four Horsemen, or feeling Satan rising from Hell… no. He would instantly open a book or make some cocoa or do _anything _to ward off those thoughts. He refused to feel the utter despair that came with thoughts of losing Crowley. Whenever he thought of that, he felt like he was drowning. He could feel his lungs filling with water, the burn of needing oxygen. Because Crowley was oxygen to him. He could no longer live without his lively redheaded demon. He couldn't even think of life without him.

But now, Crowley wasn't there, and Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to avoid these thoughts any longer.

As Aziraphale curled up in a ball on the couch in the backroom of his shop, he felt sobs being ripped from his throat.

He had almost lost everything he cared about, and it _hurt. _It clenched at his heart, making his entire body ache. He wanted Crowley to be there, to hold onto him as he wept.

He envied Crowley for dealing with his emotions on the bus. Aziraphale had been fighting this breakdown for a week, and now everything had built up far past his tolerance.

The worst part of the flood of memories was thinking about how hurt Crowley had been by everything. Aziraphale fought against remembering the hurt on Crowley's face when he'd said "We're not friends, I don't even like you." He couldn't stand the thought, it burned through his body like fire, almost making him wish that he was still discorporated so he couldn't feel this deep pain.

He remembered how the demon had walked away, hurt in his eyes, and Aziraphale had had to turn away before he broke down.

He remembered asking Crowley to _please do something, _or "I'll never talk to you again," seeing the moment that Crowley understood the meaning behind the statement.

Because that wasn't a threat. That was a promise.

They both knew that, if the war happened, they would never see each other again. If they didn't die in the fighting, they would be stuck in their respective realms, farther away from each other than they had been in six millennia. And neither of them were willing to sacrifice their friendship for the war.

Another sob escaped Aziraphale as he remembered how four eleven-year-olds had had to fight to stop the Apocalypse. That amount of weight on the shoulders of children…

No, it wasn't fair. It hadn't been fair to anyone, and that's what hurt so much.

Aziraphale felt like he was sinking, and there was nothing to stop his fall. He felt like he had weights tied to his ankle, and he couldn't fight his way to the top.

He pulled his knees closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and burying his face in them.

He knew that, if he had been human, he would have passed out or thrown up by now. But he wasn't, which meant that he was forced to continue wallowing in his sorrow.

Everything that Heaven had ever done had gone against humanity, and he couldn't fathom how his brethren could be so _cruel._ He had been nothing but faithful to Heaven, and they had come back and stabbed him in the back.

The only person that had always been there for him was Crowley, and he had continually denied that they were friends until he couldn't anymore, and denied other feelings for him until he had no other choice.

Yes, he loved Crowley. To hell with Heaven and Hell, Crowley was the only thing he needed anymore.

Speaking of Crowley… Aziraphale felt the couch dip beside him, felt skinny yet strong arms encircle him and pull him into a warm chest. He felt Crowley running his hands up and down his spine, muttering soothing words in his ear.

This made Aziraphale sob even harder, because he was so bloody _grateful _for the being that was holding onto him.

If someone had suggested to Aziraphale a few weeks ago that he would be sobbing into Crowley's arms while he soothed him, he would have laughed in their face. But now, he couldn't imagine his life without Crowley.

As he slowly calmed down, Aziraphale started to actually understand the things that Crowley was whispering to him.

"It's alright, Aziraphale. Everything's okay. The Apocalypse was stopped, we're alive, we're together. I love you so much, angel. I can't imagine my life without you. I've got you, always…"

Aziraphale's tremors subsided, and he slowly leaned up to kiss the demon, his tears leaving the taste of salt in their mouths.

"Thank you, my love." He whispered. He leaned forward and rested his head against Crowley's chest. The steady beat of Crowley's heart – despite it being entirely unnecessary – soothed Aziraphale, calming his tremors and letting him breathe more evenly. Yes, they were alive.

"I'll always be here for you, Zira." Crowley muttered, still running his hand along Aziraphale's spine. His other hand made its way into the angel's hair, making Aziraphale give a blissful sigh.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Crowley whispered into his boyfriend's hair after a few moments of silence.

"I think it was sort of the same thing that was affecting you on the bus. I was just overcome with how unfair the Apocalypse was. And…" Aziraphale trailed off, leaning up to kiss Crowley's jaw. "How I almost lost you." He breathed across Crowley's skin, making the demon shudder.

"I'm so sorry, Zira." Crowley kissed the angel's forehead. "But at least it's over, love. I'm here, we're together, and nothing can change that. I won't let it."

Aziraphale felt Crowley's arms just barely tighten around him, and he leaned into the caress.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Aziraphale muttered, once again leaning against Crowley's chest.

"I think the real question is: what did I do to deserve you?" Crowley laughed.

"You're wonderful, Crowley. You've always been there for me, despite how many times I have denied our friendship. You're like… you're like sunlight, Crowley. No, you're like starlight. You don't realize how amazing it is until you miss it. You can spend hours stargazing, and still miss it as soon as the sun rises."

Even though he couldn't see Crowley's face, Aziraphale could feel the blush creeping up the demon's neck.

"Zira…" Crowley started to protest.

"I'm serious, Crowley." Aziraphale sat up so he could look at the demon. "You're beautiful. You're wonderful, amazing, kind… I couldn't live without you, my dear. Just as I couldn't live without the stars. I need you like humans need the sun. But you're not like sunlight, because sunlight can be harmful. It can cause sunburns and vision problems. But you… I could spend the rest of my life gazing at you and I would never get tired. Because there is always another thing to see. You are _astounding, _my love. More than you could possibly know." Aziraphale reached out and touched Crowley's face, using his thumb to wipe away the tear that had trailed down the demon's cheek. He cupped Crowley's strong jaw and leaned forward, kissing him so gently that another tear left Crowley's eye.

"I love you, Aziraphale. You're my lighthouse. I've thought it before, but I've never said it out loud. Every time I'm drowning, you're there to guide me out. You've saved me more times than I can count. I need you. I love you _so much…" _

Crowley was unable to continue. He leaned forward and kissed Aziraphale again, needing the contact to ground his emotions.

Crowley was Aziraphale's starlight. And now, the angel was gladly stargazing.


End file.
